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2009 Poetry Theme Challenges#4 Lucky |
Over the next two weeks the theme challenge will be “LUCKY”have you been lucky in your life or will you be hunting for a four
leaf clover? Use your talented imagination or write a poem dedicated to St. Patrick’s Day. Now get off the mushroom and try
combining the theme challenge with the form challenge. Here’s hoping you get lucky at writing a charming “Lucky” Poem.Twinklewriter.  |
Lucky |
Maryse AchongBeloved You must see by now That without You I'd not know how To run this race, stay in the game To keep alive the blaze, the flame That burns within the core of me That yearns for Your love constantly. Beloved You know everything, You're watching when I weep or sing, You're at my side when I am strong, You raise me up when things go wrong; Small wonder then this need in me That yearns for Your love constantly. Beloved though at times I strain Against these ties, this loving chain, And like a lost lamb I might stray, Near You is where I want to stay; There's something deep inside of me That yearns for Your love constantly. back to list |
Divena CollinsLets all jig for Saint Patricks day maybe a guinness, so what do you say wear a shamrock, the fiddle will play, lets drink to the great olde Irish way, we`ll have us a grand olde time today singing Toora Loora, Loora Lay. Now Peg O`hara, she`ll be there and Tom Flaherty, he with the red hair, Maureen O ` Riley may not be there, she`s drunk and snorin,` under the stairs, we`ll have us a grand olde time today, singing Toora, Loora, Loora Lay. Saint Patricks day`s full of good cheer it comes round, only one day, a year got to drink a years, share of beer, hooray!! this blessed day is here. we`ll have us a grand olde time today, singing Toora, Loora, Loora Lay. Paddy O `Sullivans drunk as a coot. got his Shilalie caught up in his boot, Leprechaun Sean dont care a hoot, couldn`t reach, and wet on his foot. the luck of the Irish be with us today, singing Toora,Loora. Loora Lay. back to list |
Maggie CusickBanshee's had hardly stopped screeching when the house filled up for the wake, keeners were weeping and wailing enough to make widows heart break. PATSY was propped in a corner, his coffin an utter disgrace, still he looked grand with a pint in his hand a cadaverous leer on his face. Fiddlers were swinging, a tenor was singing songs of old Erin Isle, moonshine was flowing the house it was moving with everyone dancing in style. Poteen was brought in abundance, gallons stacked in the hall just as insults were flying inciting men to a brawl. Things became overly heated, many were thrown through the door, it was then that a bottle hit Patsy who fell on his face to the floor. Today he goes to his maker marked by a toll of a bell, sadly he never reached heaven but received a grand welcome in hell. ----- St Patrick The garden of eden had vanished they said until Patrick cleared it of snakes, Erins grees hills reach emerald sky reflected this day in the lakes. The time has long gone when wearing the green once held the sentence of death today thoughout Ireland flags will be waved for a moment bridging the cleft. So heres to St. Patrick worthy of praise gather ye around our glasses well raise to the man who saved Ireland. back to list |
Lorainne DafneyBagpipes begin to sing their song, as dawn rises over fields of green, a chorus awakes back to list |
Ryter RoethicleBeing part Irish I believe in luck St Patrick is number one in my book I am a Virgo and therefore I must plan And have done so since I first began The world is so much different now I make my luck by my sweaty brow. St Patrick when he kicked out snakes Showed everyone just what it takes. Then took the Emerald Isle by storm And Christianity became the norm. He only took what the druids allow Making their luck by their sweaty brow. As Erin's lore rises more each day Homage to emigrants we must pay Who left her shores in body only. Eire sent her sons to places lonely But eternal love to her, their vow And their luck by their sweaty brow. Now St Paddy's day nears again I cannot ever remember when Guinness glasses were not the way And Slainte the toast of the day. Slainte chugat I wish you now Adh mór ort and your sweaty brow. back to list |
Nia WynneYou came in the night like a thief, A Leprechaun with gold relief, By chance your charm shall bring me luck. You threw the dice, gave a symbol, A circle of gold, probable By chance your charm shall bring me luck. You gave me some cards telling of A risk involving games of love, By chance your charm shall bring me luck. You thought it was just like roulette, Yet time to be free without threat, By chance your charm will bring me luck. ----- Lucky Green Pure green is a passionate Spring Where lakes and threes rehearse to sing How lucky it is life comes back, For of death there is never any lack, But then sun returns to prove life's chance So now feet and soul must ever dance! From unripe fruit to clover filled fields The most plentiful color is life's herald, Joyous first sign indicating victory When cold sorrows end in hopeful zoochory, As birds and animals do thus enhance, so now feet and souls must ever dance! Circles of greening seasons spin round Drab cycles in echoed winds sound Through merry leaf of shadowed shapes Moments pass that we cannot escape Over time, till death parries it's lance, So now feet and souls must ever dance! back to list |
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